


Condolences

by helsinkibaby



Category: Press Gang
Genre: Reunion, Wakes & Funerals
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-08-27
Updated: 2004-08-27
Packaged: 2020-07-28 05:36:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 583
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20058892
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/helsinkibaby/pseuds/helsinkibaby
Summary: Kenny comes back to Norbridge for his mother's funeral.





	Condolences

**Author's Note:**

> For the LiveJournal Daily15 Word #116 “Sympathise”

“Sorry for your troubles.”

“My condolences.”

“I’m so sorry.”

Kenny is grateful that there’s no clock in the hospital mortuary – he really doesn’t want to know for how long he’s been sitting here, lined up beside his father and sister, listening to people sympathising with them. Not that he’s taking too much notice of what they’re saying – after a while, all the people, all the words began to blur into one another, creating a buzz of noise in the back of his head.

It could, he reflects, be just the jet lag – after all, the trip from Sydney to Norbridge is a killer at the best of times; stepping right off the plane and going to your mother’s funeral is hardly that.

It could also be the situation. It only seems like hours ago that he was basking in Sydney sunshine; now he’s here in Norbridge, rain beating a steady tattoo against the pavement, leaves blowing in the wind. Sitting here in this cold room, hushed whispers echoing off austere brick walls, his too-young mother’s coffin open in front of him, it’s all very hard to believe, and not even the well-meaning sympathies of friends and strangers alike can help him.

He’s never felt more alone, even if he’s surrounded by people who care about him. His father’s putting a brave face on things, taking solace in the fact that his mother never felt a thing; a massive stroke, the doctors said, dead before she hit the ground. His sister’s cold hand clutches his, her tears likewise kept at bay. Various relations are scattered around the room, as are old friends of his from school, even old friends of his from the Junior Gazette.

Except for one.

As if his thoughts have conjured her up, he hears whispered voices at the door, looks up slowly. There he sees Lynda and Spike, in the throes of an argument (some things never change) though making considerable effort to keep their voices down (some things do).

He vaguely remembers talking to Spike earlier on, remembers his friend telling him that he knew it was hard, that if there was anything he could do, just to call him… the sympathy in the other man’s eyes made the platitudes seem less trite. Spike’s not sympathetic now though, is all but glaring at Lynda, who’s glaring right back.

“It’s not my fault the meeting ran over,” she hisses, her voice carrying to Kenny. “It was an important financial meeting, and anyway, I’m here now…”

“That’s not the point…” Spike whispers, but Lynda is already looking around, looking for Kenny, who stands up when her eyes find his.

“Kenny….” He’s not sure if she actually says it, or if her lips merely form his name, but either way, her eyes are wide pools of mingled pain and sympathy, and she’s moving towards him, Spike forgotten. He meets her halfway, wrapping his arms around her waist, holding onto her tightly, and he thinks he’d feel guilty about that were it not for the fact that her arms are around her neck and she’s holding onto him just as tightly. Her hair is longer than he remembered, curling around her shoulders, and he buries his face in it, inhaling deeply. His tight hold means that he can feel as well as hear her quiet murmur in his ear, those words that he’s heard so many times already today. “Kenny, I’m so, so sorry…”

For the first time, they make him feel better.  



End file.
